Sedona Vacation

Day 1 & 2—Uncle Bob & Aunt June’s House, Mesa, AZ. We spent two days with Bruce’s uncle and aunt. It’s been nine years since we’ve seen them. They used to live up north of LA but moved soon after Uncle Bob’s 80s birthday to Mesa to be near his brother Jack. He just celebrated his 89th birthday. It was wonderful to see them and to just unwind at their house for a few days. They’re looking well but it’s sad to see your aunts and uncles grow old. Their house is in a residential area for seniors. Later that night we went for a walk around the neighbourhood and there was something strange about it that I couldn’t put my figure on it until later. There were no cars in the driveways or on the street. They were all in the insulated garages because of the heat. The most amazing thing about their neighbourhood is the quails. They’ll all over their back yard. I’ve never seen them & they’re so cute. There were also doves, woodpeckers, ravens, and a rabbit that visit their backyard regularly. We also saw a roadrunner while driving through the desert. The landscape out there is very stark but beautiful in it’s own way. Everything is brown or sand coloured and it takes a bit of getting used to not seeing trees or landscape around the commercial buildings. I did notice that the highways are very clean, especially in the city. There’s no litter on the side of the highways. Bruce says it’s because everyone has their a/c on the car windows up—which is probably true. When we arrived at 7 p.m., it was 100 degrees, but as they say “it was a dry heat” so it wasn’t unbearable.

Day 3—Sedona, AZ: The drive up was nice. We got there a little too early to check into the hotel so we stopped off at Camp Verde. There’s a fort there but there’s not much left except for three houses. It was abandoned in 1891 and sold at a public auction in 1899. Who would buy a fort? The COs house was nice although I wasn’t sure where they’d put all the kids as it only had three bedrooms. As we drove up to Sedona the hills were getting larger and the red soil was starting to peek out of the white rolling mountains. I was thinking this is really nice and then we rounded the bend and all I could say was “oh my!” I can’t even begin to describe the beauty of the red rocks. All the white rolling mountains were eroded away and these tall red striped monoliths jutted into the sky. It was breathtaking. We spent the afternoon roaming around the town and driving around a bit. The McDonald’s there has a turquoise M instead of the usual yellow one. The view from our hotel room was amazing. Actually our room was very cool with a separate room with a Jacuzzi; not bad for a Hotel 8.

Day 4—Montezuma Castle & Well: Montezuma Castle is a 20-room high rise pueblo built up in the side of the mountain by the Sinagua Indians around 700 AD and suddenly abandoned in the1400s. It’s retty amazing that the Sinagua Indians built the whole thing without any tools. No one is sure why they abandoned it or where they went. Archeologists believe though that there was a draught and they started fighting over food and water as the grave site showed trauma to the bodies that were buried last. Hopi folklore suggested the remainder of the tribe moved north and merged with them. Early archeologists thought that the Sinagua were Aztec hence the name Montezuma. The well is a natural limestone sink hole from which more than a million gallons of water flows from each day. For more info on both go here. On the way back to Sedona we drove through the Red Rock State Park to the Chapel of the Holy Cross. What a beautiful view, but unfortunately it started to rain so we had to cut our visit short. I did get the chance to lite a candle for a friend while there. Since it was overcast and raining we went to Tlaquepaque Arts & Crafts Village for lunch at a brewery and shopping. We did get a chance to go across the street to the UFO store to get a pocket alien for a friend. The place was a hoot. Sedona is on a vortex (a spiraling spiritual energy) so there are a lot of new age people and business there.

Day 5—Sedona Jeep Ride & “Don’t I know you?”: We decided we wanted to go on a jeep ride. There are tons of companies that offer them and they are very competitive. Bruce and I definitely didn’t want to go on the Pink Jeep tour. First of all we heard bad reviews on the internet and second; Bruce would not be caught dead in a pink jeep. He has his pride. The one we picked was Red Rock Jeep tour and Steve, our driver, was fantastic. We picked a 2-hour tour that would allow me to take nice photos and I wasn’t disappointed. He explained why the rocks were red and that they were basically sediment. Which explains why they look like they look like shaped clay figures. Afterwards I had one of those “Brockville” moments. A friend of mine from Brockville was in a fairly successful band in the 70s. The rest of the guys were from Ottawa and the running joke was no matter where they were someone from Brockville would show up. It’s happened to me as well. I have a co-worker from Brockville and I’ve run into other Brockvillians all over the place. Sedona was one of them. We went into this BBQ rib shack and the owner happened to have hockey memorabilia all over the place. Turns out he was from Ottawa but lived in Brockville a number of years while playing hockey with the Brockville Braves. A small world. Later we went up to the airport to see the sun set over the mountains, a beautiful site and quite popular. I had a hard time getting good shots over the people but I did. Later we went back to the airport to see the meteor shower. Turns out the airport road & parking lot are private, we learned this from the police officer that came by to see what we were doing. He was nice and said there was no problem with us staying there but that we wouldn’t see a lot until 3 a.m. We did see a few showers but there was no way we were staying up that late. We’ve been getting on the road by 8 a.m. so we’ve been knackered out by late afternoon.

Day 6—Jerome, AZ: We decided to spend the day in Jerome. It’s a copper mining town that became a ghost town in the 1950s when the mine closed. The last 50 or so townspeople decided to open the town up to artists and hippies in the 60s to keep it going. It was the 4th largest city and one of the wildest in Arizona territory in its heyday. The town is in three tiers on the side of the mountain and the mine is in the valley. The town is still very run down which adds to its charm and it’s full of art stores. We had this wonderful lunch at this little café with only three tables in it. It wasn’t one of those small quaint fru-fru “bistros” it had a lot of charm and warmth. The owner was great and the food was wonderful. I bought some turquoise earrings and copper beads to make earrings. I really dislike turquoise so I was glad to find something that I would wear. I took some amazing photos of the place as well.

Day 7 & 8—Gett’n our Kick on Rt 66: We drove north on 89A to Flagstaff. On the way we stopped off at tables the local Indians had set up to sell their wares. The drive up the mountains was breathtaking but unfortunately they were doing a controlled burn so it was hazy. Flagstaff wasn’t really worth the stop. There’s nothing there and the historic downtown was only about two blocks. We drove west on Route 66 which, truth be told, was very boring. We did stop off at Seligman, the town that got Rt. 66 designated as a historical landmark. The town was run down but quite cool. We had lunch at a diner that’s been around since the 50s. I finally got a Navajo Taco. I’d seen them listed on a lot of menus but hadn’t had one yet. It’s basically beans, Lettice and tomatoes on Navajo fry bread. It was very good and really huge. I took some pretty cool photos while we were there. Seligman was the inspiration for the town in the Disney movie Cars so there were a lot of old beat-up cars around town with eyes painted on their windshields. There’s a tow truck parked in front of one of the stores that was the prototype for Mater. We then headed across on I-40 and then south to Lake Havasu and spent the night there. We took a gander at London Bridge and that was about it. Lake Havasu is pretty dead in the off season. We got up in the morning and headed south again past the Parker Dam but we couldn’t see it and then went west on I-10 into Califor-ni-ay! The only two interesting places on the way home were Chiriaco Summit near Indio and the Windmill farms near Palm Springs. Chiriaco Summit has a post office, restaurant, gas station and, of all things, a museum dedicated to General Patton. The Chiriaco family settled there in the 30s and set up a restaurant and gas station on the new highway. In the 40s General Patton set up the tank training grounds and that’s why the museum was built there by the Chiriaco family. The windmills near Palm Springs are really cool, there’s acres and acres of them in the pass and I managed to get some pretty good shots from the car.

And that was our trip to Sedona. I’d definitely go to the area again. There were a few places we didn’t get to see and we decided not to make a day trip to the Grand Canyon.

I can't take it anymore—Nevare must die!

I've mentioned in the past that I have a love/hate relationship with the writer Robin Hobb. It's just that her main characters—male that is—are just plain stupid. I read Shaman's Crossing and true to form, it was too long and the main character Nevare is a dolt. But could I leave well enough alone and not read the next book? No, I had to buy it. I can't stand not finishing a series or book even if I don't like the characters. Case in point, The Kite Runner. Great writing but I just obsoletely hated the mealy-mouthed main character Amir. You would think after getting beaten up rescuing his nephew he would get a backbone, but nope, not him. Right to the end he's a weasel. But I digress...this is how much of a dolt Nevare is. While a cadet in the Cavalla (calvary) he's at a carnival freak show he meets this extremely fat man. The man tell him he used to be a Cavalla officer until he was exposed to the Speck plague and started gaining weight. This is not the norm, it's usually a wasting disease so you would think the conversation would stick in his head. That night all the cadets are exposed to the plague and after recovering he starts gaining weight. But, and I find this hard to believe, he can't understand why he's so fat!! I'm not kidding. Then in the blaze of knowledge he remembers the conversation with the fat man and thinks, could that be what's happening to me? His answer, nah! Just a coincidence. What a dolt! So the book is still sitting on the night table next to my bed with only a few chapters read and I can't take it. I want to finish it but I don't want to at the same time. It's like a siren's call.

ESP

Now I'm not saying that I'm phyic, but I swear I do have something going on. Too many times I'll think of someone out of the blue, someone I haven't talked to in a while, and then suddenly the phone rings. Kind of sucks when I'm at work and thinking that I have to get a project done before so & so contacts me and sure enough the phone rings right then. It sounds kind of lame when I say, "Oh I was just working on that & was thinking of you." I can' just hear their mental comment, sure you are as if they shouted it out. So, yesterday I heard on the news that Sharon Tate's murderer, Susan Atkins, had died I was thinking about Roman Polanski. I was specfically thinking, "I wonder when he's going to be arrested?" And sure enough it happened. Opps, maybe I jinxed him.

Remembering HarryBoy

I’ve never understood people who don’t like having animals in their lives, dogs especially. How can you not like something that gives you unconditional love all the time? No matter how much the world pisses on you, your dog will always greet you at the door with a wagging tale. My sister had such a dog. Harry Boy passed away today, which also happens to be my husband's birthday. He was almost 12 years old which is very old for a Rhodesian Ridgeback. I remember when she got Harry Boy, it was two months before my wedding. He was a typical male Ridgeback—shy, gangly and absolutely dominated by the two female Ridgebacks she already owned. Sushi used to act like he smelled! She would actually turn up her nose when he was around. And I know she was wondering when he would be returned back to wherever he came from. Simba took to mothering him because he was so little and pathetic. He grew into a beautiful dog with a perfect ridge on his back (he even won a ribbon when he was a puppy for his ridge). He was so easy-going that my sister used to take him into the office and to houses she was showing when she was a realtor. Of all the dogs she had, Harry Boy was the only one that attached solely to her; the other two were too independent. When she was getting a divorce and moving to another home, she took Harry Boy there and sat down with him in the empty house and said, “Harry Boy, do you think we can be happy here?” They were. Harry Boy and the rest of her dogs really helped her through a really tough time. They made her little house a home and she didn’t feel so lonely because every time she walked into the house, Harry Boy and the others were waiting at the door for her. Actually they nearly bowled her over. Now I’m so glad that she has a new husband that will help her mourn Harry Boy. She also has Kaede and Freddy to help her too. I wonder if Sushi will still turn her nose up at him in doggy heaven.

Pride & Prejudice

I've always been a big fan of Jane Austen, I’ve seen all the movies and miniseries created from her books but I've never actually read any of her work. I know, scandalous!

By far, hands down, my favourite is Pride and Prejudice. The 1995 BBC production with Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy is the best production ever— Colin Firth is Mr. Darcy. So, I just finished the book and it was as fantastic as I expected it to be. I did find the 18th century writing a little hard to read at first but then I got used to it after a chapter or two. It helped that I had watched the BBC miniseries often enough that I have it practically memorized and I could picture the scenes and conversations as I read the book. I found the book to be very humorous as well. Miss Austen was very good at tweaking upper society. Her depiction of Lady Catherine de Bourgh was spot on; the lady was a bully and snob but once Elizabeth stood up to her she withered away. Mr. Collins’ comments and letters were hilarious. He’s such a sanctimonious prig.

There were some comments from other writers in the back that were quite interesting. They weren’t all in praise of Miss Austen’s writing skills. Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote in his journal in 1861: I am at a loss to understand why people hold Miss Austen’s novels at so high a rate, which seem to me vulgar in tone, sterile in artistic invention, imprisoned in their wretched conventions of English society, without genius, wit or knowledge of the world. Never was life so pinched and narrow…Suicide is more respectable.” Two words Mr. Emerson…chick book…you wouldn’t get it. Charlotte Bronte didn’t like her books either, but that’s okay I found Wuthering Heights to be dismal and dreary. How could anyone compare Heathcliff to Mr. Darcy? It’s a cat’s name for God’s sake! And Jane Eyre—she was a wallflower who couldn’t hold a candle to Elizabeth. ‘Nuff said.

So now it’s on to Mansfield Park, but first I think I’ll read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies—now that sounds like a good book.

Miss Universe

I'm not a big fan of beauty pagents but I do like to check out the national costumes on the Miss Universe Pagent . Last year Miss Canada dressed as a Maple Leaf hockey player & I rather liked it (being a diehard Leaf's fan). But this year my only comment was WTF??? I have no idea what it supposed to represent. Of course, Miss USA's Nascar outfit wasn't any better. There were some other ones pretty hysterical: Miss Netherlands was a windmill and Miss Great Britian looked like a punked out Queen. I kind of liked that one. I'm still not sure what Miss Japan was thinking. Her kimono's hem line had to be lowered after people at home said she looked like a hooker—and the pink garters were okay? To view all the costums go here http://community.livejournal.com/ohnotheydidnt/38365995.html

Latest book I'm reading

So I decided that since I'm such a terrible blogger (two blogs a year) that I would augment my blogs with reports on the books that I'm reading. I just finished the first of a three part series and I'm not sure if I'll read the next. It was Shaman's Crossing by Robin Hobb. I have a love/hate relationship with Robin Hobb. I like her books but I have a few issues. First, they're too darn long, she could cut out a quarter of the story and still have a good read. And I don't know why, but usually her series are three books long and I always struggle through the second book. It was that way with the Farseer & Tawny Man Trilogies (which technically could be considered a six book series) and the Liveship series and now I'm not sure about the Soldier Son trilogy. The book got off to a slow start and then I was hooked at the end. But I'm not sure if I'm hooked enough to go to the next book. On the other hand, I hate hanging out there with an unfinished story. So it's a dilemma isn't it. Here's something I didn't know about her, she also writes under Megan Lindholm.

I'm also reading a bio of Catherine the Great and I'm slowly working my way through all of the Jane Austen books. I started with Pride and Prejudice. Will write more on that when I'm finished. But I can say that I'm loving it.

Talk about bad journalism

I was checking out the news this morning online and came across this article on CNN http://www.cnn.com/2009/WORLD/meast/08/23/israel.sweden.organ.harvesting/index.html?eref=igoogle_cnn Apparently, a Swedish "journalist" wrote an article suggested the Israeli army kidnapped and killed young Palestinians to harvest their organs. The journalist said that the article was just his opinion. Since when is opinion considered a news story? He said that he had no proof that Israeli soldiers were stealing organs, and that the purpose of his piece was to call for an investigation. Now I'm all for freedom of the press and good—and I stress good—investigative news. But, if it were true he just shot himself in the foot buy writing a piece that sounded like it should have been in the National Enquirer. Good Lord, be a good journalist and don't acuse until you have proof. Walter Cronkite & Peter Jenning must be rolling over in their graves!

Remembering What Was…

My mother’s youngest brother died yesterday and I’m heart broken. Uncle Johnny was one of those rare free spirits we all loved. I always thought of him as my fairy god-uncle. He would flit in and out of our lives, spreading fairy dust in his wake. We rarely saw him but when we did it was magic. I remember when I was little he showed up on our doorstep just before a hurricane hit. To me it seemed like the wind blew him in just like Dorothy. It was magical to a four year old. During that same visit, my sister accidently dropped the cigarettes she was hiding in front of him. She thought for sure that she was busted. Instead he bought her a pack of cigarettes. Now that’s a cool uncle. (Okay, that was before we knew that cigarettes were bad for us.) He was the artist in the family and I like to think that some of his fairy dust made me an artist as well.

I was lucky to have wonderful aunts and uncles on both sides of my family. Johnny was the free spirit, Bobby was always there—our rock of Gibraltar. Unfortunately, Leslie died when I was young so I never met him, but my mom talked of him often. Flo owned a pub. How cool was that. I just loved that I had an English aunt that owned a pub. Nicky was a pistol, mom said she was the daring one of the bunch. I saw that the one time that I met her. Some still lived over in England so I didn’t see them often. Two of them Bobby and Johnny followed my mother to Canada. I can’t imagine what my life would have been like without them in my life.

But it’s more than Uncle Johnny’s leaving us; I’m mourning what was the Bulbrooks. He was the last of my grandparent’s children. (There are two half-sisters from my grandfather’s second marriage but they were born much later.) I grew up on stories of the Bulbrook sibling’s during the depression and the war. To me they were my heroes. I was told that they were the lucky ones because grandfather had a job during the depression. He was “Bob the Gasman.” They had parties at their house all the time. They were a very lively family, all party animals! Then they had to scatter all over during the war. Johnny and Bobby were sent out in the country, away from London, for safety. I can’t imagine leaving your home to go live with strangers knowing that you may not have a family to come home to. Johnny was only 11 when he had to leave. Bobby was a little older and enlisted in the Navy before the war was over. Doris was a nurse and worked in the burn wards. How hard that must have been for an 18 year old. Later, after the war Johnny went into the military and then the merchant marines. I know that the war must have been hard on my grandmother; there were many days that she didn’t know where her children were or whether they were safe.

And now they’re all gone. As my sister said, Nana now has all her children with her. Now it’s up to us, the cousins, to carry on the stories. It’s our duty that our parent’s stories are not forgotten by the next generation. The Bulbrooks will carry on.

The Amazing Kreskin I'm Not

Sometimes events just fall into place and I can picture them in my mind. I've always believed that I've got a bit of fairy dust in me because I can picture things happening and sure enough they happen exactly the way I imagine them. Case in point. I adore hockey, I'm a diehard Leafs fan. I was heartbroken when Mats Sundin left the Leafs after being their captain for 10 years for Vancouver. Last night Vancouver played the Leafs for the first time since he joined them. I just knew that he was going to get the winning goal, I just knew it—I pictured it. And sure enough, in a shoot out, his was the winning goal. It was poetic and sweet. I didn't mind Toronto loosing this time. Now if I could only use my powers towards winning the lottery. I'm really good at picking one number.

A Rod

So A Rod admitted that he took steroids. I watched part of his interview and it made me wonder. Why did he admit it now when before he was always denying using steriods? I don't know the reason behind it—probably it was going to come out in an article and he was heading them off. But I thought it was interesting that he said he did it because he was naive and pressured. Okay I can understand that. But he didn't apologize for lying all those years when he was asked directly if he was using steriods. He knew that it was wrong, they all did and yet he lied. I find it interesting that these figures apologize but really they're not apologizing for what they did, but it seems because they didn't get away with it. He didn't see truly apologetic to me. JMHO.

long time no blog...as usual

Well it's been a long time since I blogged so I'm just going to fill this with random thoughts. I'm still getting used to President Obama. I like hearing it but after 8 long years of that last boob it's refreshing. I think the best part of his swearing in was watching Bush fly away. Hopefully Obama will be able to get us back on the right track. This economy just really sucks. Okay, next rant, I'm beginning to dislike the Susan character on Desperate Housewives, enough said.

hmmm....not a good blogger am I?

Gosh, I was on a roll there last August and then nothing. The last few months have been a blur, especially November and December. We normally have 4 graphic designers at work but in November we went down to two (one on vacation one left) and November is our busiest month. Then the other one got sick and we were down to me! It's all a blur. It took me until now to catch up. It's funny, even though I was very very busy...as a co-worker said, sucks to be you...it was a bit refreshing because I had the ability for the first time to say "no, I can't do that." I had to concentrate on the top big jobs and was able to tell everyone else that they would have to wait. Well, most people anyway. But it was rather cleansing in a strange way.

Three of the four boys are living with us again. The economy is terrible and it's hard enough to make it in SoCal when you have a job. Bryant moved in with his girlfriend and dog Lexie so it's a full house. But it's working so far. I did enjoy the empty nesting for awhile there, the quietness of it was wonderful.

Eric Lamaze is my hero!

I am so proud of Eric Lamaze and Hickstead for winning a gold medal for Canada. Eric had overcome cocaine addiction, thoughts of suidide after he was banned from the sport, and yet he overcame all that and got the gold. Hickstead is about the most beautiful jumper that I've ever seen. Unfortunatley, I didn't get to see it live on TV, I'm not sure if NBC showed it, but they have video on YouTube (that goodness for pirating LOL). If they did it must have been when I was at work or sleeping. I'm not fond of NBCs coverage of the Olympics; the hype and lack of non-American viewing. But I digress...Hickstead and Lamaze were amazing.

Being 50

Yesterday was my 50th birthday. I still can't believe it. Inside of me is a 25-year-old screaming WTF happened! I don't feel 50, I don't look 50, it's all surreal to me. I look at photos of my mother and grandmother when they were 50 and they sure looked a lot older than I do now. Especially my grandmother, at 50 she was a grandmother and didn't look any different than when she was 70. After having a bunch of kids she morphed into that middle-aged stout woman you see in all the old photos. The day before my birthday was the SANDAG press conference. Here's the text:

511 honors one millionth caller

During a period of soaring gas prices, SANDAG honored a North County woman as the one millionth caller to its 511 traffic and commuter service – sooner than expected as calls have jumped during the run up in fuel prices.

“As gas prices have gone through the roof, people have started looking for alternatives to driving alone,” said SANDAG Chair and Lemon Grove Mayor Mary Teresa Sessom. “Alternative commute information is one of the free services 511 offers – along with many others, including real-time traffic and highway incident information.”

Sessom and Airwatch traffic reporter Cal Walker honored the one millionth caller – San Marcos resident Cynde Durnford-Branecki – in the lobby of American Specialty Health in downtown San Diego, where she works as a graphic designer.

Durnford-Branecki commutes daily from San Marcos. She rides her bicycle to a Sprinter station, loads her bike on the train for the trip to Escondido, then takes an Express Bus downtown. She called 511 in July to request a bike locker at the Escondido train station and ended up being the one millionth caller.

SANDAG and 511 gave Durnford-Branecki a plaque commemorating the call. She also received a gift basket, including a $250 REI gift certificate, a comprehensive bike maintenance class at REI, two VIP passes to the San Diego Natural History Museum, two passes to the Maritime Museum of San Diego, two meal passes to Souplantation, one round-trip trip to and from the San Diego airport for two from Cloud 9, and various 511 logo items.

Launched by SANDAG and its partners in February 2007, it took the 511 service just 18 months to process one million phone calls. The pace increased as gas prices began climbing in March, eventually hitting $5 a gallon before declining slightly.

During the first quarter of this year, a total of about 230,000 people called 511. In the second quarter, that number jumped to 272,000. One of the biggest increases was in people inquiring about public transportation, which jumped 26 percent to 43,000 callers. Over the same time period, calls increased by 17 percent to RideLink, a SANDAG service for commuters interested in alternative commute choices and employers interested in offering commuter benefits programs.

San Diego’s regional 511 system is part of a national effort. Since it began approximately six years ago in the Cincinnati area, the program has taken hold in 43 communities nationwide, offering 128 million Americans the service – nearly half the population of the country.

As of May, 112 million people had called into the service for information nationwide. In May alone, 2.4 million people nationwide called 511 for transportation information.

Our local 511 service stems from a collaborative partnership among SANDAG, California Department of Transportation, Metropolitan Transit System, North County Transit District, California Highway Patrol, and San Diego County Service Authority for Freeway Emergencies (SAFE).

It was pretty cool, everyone in my department and other came down to cheer me on. I did a little speech at the end and didn't throw up...that's a miracle in itself. I had fun.

Biking

So I've had an interesting month. It all started when we bought bikes a few months and flourished into a life-changing attitude. I wanted to get healthy, plain and simple. I was tired of being fat and wheezy. So we bought bikes and started riding on the weekends. Then they finished the rapid train. It was nice but too far to walk to, plus I really didn't drive that far to the transit centre to catch my bus downtown. But, then gas prices started getting higher and higher and we were getting broker and broker. I don't drive far however, my car only takes premium. Bruce on the other had had to drive a fair distance to work. Then I noticed they put bike lockers at the transit centre. So I thought, what if I rode my bike to the rail station, took that to the transit centre and then store my bike at the transit centre. On the way home, I'd skip the train and ride my bike home along the bike trail they built along the rail line. I was saving gas and getting my exercise in at the same time. It was a brilliant plan. Ah, but it gets better. When I called the new 511 number they have set up for commuters I was told I was the millionth caller! They have a press conference schedule on August 7th with the media at my company. My boss is thrilled because it give our fitness programs exposure. I supposed to be getting a nice price too. How cool is that?

Memorial Day

First, let me say that I'm not used to Memorial Day. I mostly grew up in Canada where we have Remembrance Day on Nov. 11—Veteran's Day in the US. I think that Memorial Day is at the wrong time of the month. Traditionally it's the opening weekend of summer and has become a happy holiday, which is not what it's supposed to signify. Remembrance Day in Canada is solemn; people stop at 11 minutes after 11 a.m. and pay their respect to the military people who have made the ultimate sacrifice. People down here say "Happy Memorial Day" and ads talk about huge sales and celebrating the weekend. The reason for the weekend is lost in all the hype. It's being overshadowed by the fact that the weather is finally clearing and summer is in the air. People are naturally giddy. So I think the day should be moved to November 11. That date is close to Thanksgiving when people are naturally reflective and thinking of their loved ones. Mind you I just recently read an article that the next generation of Canadians are not learning their wartime history. I hope that's not true. It would be sad for any country to forget it's war dead.

It's Not Fair

I sometimes wonder about the unfairness of this world. Why good people die and why bad people seem to carry on. I know that in the end the bad people get their comeuppance—I'm not a super religious person but I do believe in heaven and hell. Just recently I heard that one of the most brilliant and funny science fiction writers, Terry Prachett of the Discword series, has a rare form of Alzheimer's that is actually making his brain shrivel up. That just seems so unfair to me. It's more than that he's a darn good writer. His satire and wit are amazing. He's one of those rare writers that makes you laugh out loud (much to the consternation of my commuter bus co-riders) and think. He has that dry sense of humour the English are famous for tenfold. I just love his writing and it seems such a tragedy that I won't have the thrill of walking into the book store and seeing that he has a new novel out. And there in lies the unfairness, a person with such a brilliant mind getting a disease that robs him of the one thing that makes him so unique. And yet there are people out there that are dumber than dirt who will live to 90 with all their faculties (mind you they might not have their teeth). It's just not fair.

Take Care Eric

It's terrible when you're worried about someone and you can't really do anything because they're so far away. At least with e-mail you can keep in contact a lot more effectively then in the "old days." So about the only thing I can do is worry and pray. So here's my prayer for Eric. Take care of yourself, nothing is ever as bad as you think because, over time, you will start to feel better. I know that personally. Just think of tomorrow and not about today. Thinking of only today and how bad you feel today will only make it seem like there is nothing to live for. But you have plenty to live for. So my prayers are with you. I think about you every minute of the day. YOU ARE IMPORTANT TO ME. I've asked every saint I can think of to look over you, including St. Francis...you never know and I'm hedging all my bets!

RIP Herb Peterson

It's a sad day, poor old Herb Peterson, passes away today. Mr. Peterson was one of those rare people that you worshiped and cursed at the same time. Who is Herb Peterson? He invented the most perfect and most fattening food ever made—the Egg McMuffin. I used to think that the Egg McMuffin was the world's most perfect and handy-to-eat food until I came to California and discovered the egg burrito. Hats off to you Mr. Peterson for single-handily creating a food that we crave and yet hate because it's so darn fattening. Isn't that just a metaphor for life?

Prince Harry

I'm rather pissed off with the Drudge Report for leaking that Prince Harry is in Afghanistan. How dare they put his life in danger! Don't think the Taliban isn't going to pay attention? If they have to move him for security reason then his unit is going to affected as well. Having a unit in turmoil is not good for morale. I understand the need to report the news but to report something that affects his safety and performing his duties—that's just not right. It's not responsible reporting.

Super Tuesday

Thank God that Super Tuesday is here. I've been home recouperating for over a week now and if I see one more political commerical I'm going to scream. The Indian Gaming one is the worst—they keep putting up rebuttle commericals the minute the opposition airs theirs. Most of them are so negative and deceiving. For example, the Indian Gaming one gives you the impression that if you vote no then it's over, but that's not true. The proposition was already passed, a no vote takes it to court...wasting yet more money. I would love to watch the news and not have the word Obama, Hillary, Mitt or anyone's else's name mentioned just for one night! When we're in the middle of an election year it's almost as if the rest of the world doesn't exist. I have to watch the BBC to find out what's going on outside of our shores. Enough already!

Bah Humbug!

So I've been home recouperating for five days now and I'm already sick of politics and the news. It's only January and I don't want to hear another word about the run for the White House. Get it over already! I can't beleive all the money and time they spend on the election, it's such a waste. They should run for two months tops and stop with all the bickering and finger pointing. The one that cracks me up is the proposition for the Indian gaming. They've spent millions on ads on TV rebutting each other. Then I hear on the news that the bill has already been passed by the state and federal governments so it's a done deal. If we vote no then all we're doing is allowing the opponents to go to court and waste more money! But do they say that in the ads? No it sounds like we get to make the decision. It's all so fake and surreal. And if I hear one more thing about Brittany Spears on the news I'll scream. When did this become a news item?

Out of the Hospital

l really hate hospitals which is a terrible thing for a nurse's daughter to admit. What kind of place wakes you up at 3 a.m. to give you a shot in your arm for pain? I wasn't in pain, I was sleeping! I didn't get any rest while I was in there, especially at night because our room was near the nurse's station so it got noisy. I thought it was humorous that they had signs posted all over the floor that said "Quiet Zone 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. Guess it didn't count for staff. I had a spinal and happy juice instead of general anesthesia. First time for me and I was nervous. I thought that I was going to be awake for the surgery but the happy juice was very happy indeed. I didn't even feel the spinal, so that was nice. When I first got up to the ward I heard them play lullaby over the PA system. The nurse told me that they do that each time a baby is born in the hospital. I thought, "how sweet." Not so sweet that night when six babies were born between midnight and 4 a.m. I woke for each and every one of those lullaby announcements!

I think the worst part of getting any type of adominal surgery is the gas they pump into your abdomin to give them room to work. To put it bluntly, the only way to get rid of it is to fart. And the only way you can pass gas is to get up and walk around the floor. The nurses are fanatics about walking and farting. Every time they came into the room they'd smile sweetly and asked if you walked recently and passed gas. Well, I couldn't pass gas, proably because 1) I'm too English to do such things in public and 2) my roommate was Iranian and had a huge family that was constantly in the room which lead back to problem #1. Thank God my nurses weren't nuns (it was a Catholic hospital) or my svinkter would have been permanently shut! By day two I was in so much pain that they had to give me morphine. Naturally I threw up after that had to be put back on IV and stayed in an extra day. I was never so glad when I finally let go of a long, loud fart that a beer guzzling football fan would be proud of! Good time was had by all.

But all in all, the staff and my doctor were very nice and took good care of me. I've always admired nurses, they take a lot of crap from patients and doctors and are terribly understaffed, but I sure am glad to be home and in my own bed.

Three More Days

I'm trying not to be nervous about the operation, but it's hard not to. I have the day off work tomorrow because it's a holiday and then I go to work on Tuesday to tidy things up. Wednesday, I have to report to the hospital at 8 a.m. and the surgery is at 10 a.m. I wish I hadn't decided to go to work on Tuesday. Some people are good at letting work help them forget about situations. I'm the opposite. I'd rather be home in a comfortable environment instead of dealing with work. I've always been one of those people that thinks work is just that, work. It doesn't define who I am, family does that. I probably thought different when I was younger, but I think when you hit a certain age...ahem...middle age...your priorities change. Chasing the almighty buck isn't as important as working on your relationships.

Long Time No Blog

It's January and I promise that I will blog more often. I didn't realize that I hadn't posted anything since May of last year . Well I'm going to be home for the next six weeks convalescing from a hysterectomy so perhaps I'll blog more, at least in between the bouts of pain. I'm really not looking forward to having a part of my body removed, even if it's been quite a pain the last few years. Boy, I am not going to miss my uterus one minute. I have my pre-op meeting with the doctor on Monday and they told me to write down any questions I may have. I really couldn't think of any at the time, but in the middle of the night I woke up with a couple of stupid ones. So, if they take out the uterus, what happens to the ovaries? Do they just hang there? Is there a chance of them shifting around now that there's a hole? And, what do they do with the hole in your cervix, stitch it up? You can't have a hole that goes nowhere right? So if there's nothing there when you have sex, all the sperm is going to come right out because it has no place to go. Yuck. I don't think I'll ask those questions to the doctor, they sound a bit odd if you ask me. But those are the type of things that I think of in the middle of the night. I've never quite gotten over asking 3-year old type questions even as an adult—why is the sky blue? I used to drive my mom nuts, but to her credit, she used to get the encyclopedia out right then and there and get an answer to my questions. That was until she figured out I was asking them during washing up time so I could get out of doing dishes (it never worked). That God when we got a dishwasher. Anyway, I digress. I did ask a girlfriend who is going through nursing school and she set me straight. I'm still a little grossed out thinking that all that gunk comes right back now now because the hole has been sewn up LOL!

Miss Canada

I'm watching the Miss Universe Pageant. I usually only watch the first few minutes to see what Miss Canada is wearing. For once she's not dressed at a Mountie or Eskimo. I rather like the outfit since I'm a die hard Leaf's fan. I saw a comment on someone else's blog that after seeing this photo he'd forgotten everything he ever knew about hockey!

Speaking of hockey, I watched the first game of the Stanley Cup. Unfortunately the Ducks won over the Sens. It's a hard game for me to watch because I dislike both teams. It's the choice of the better of two evils. So I'm rooting for the Sens only because I dislike the Ducks worse.

BYKTW Day

I was in the drug store yesterday dropping off an Rx. It had been a most terrible day so I picked up a few things and decided to use the self-serve machine because, quite frankly, I didn't want to hear anyone say "Have a nice day." I swiped everything that I bought, but before I could pay, the machine said I had to show my ID to the cashier that was on the register next to the self-serves. After finally getting her attention she said, "You can't use that machine if you're purchasing alcohol." Her attitude was rather snotty if you ask me. I looked at her and thought, "Don't kill her, just don't kill her. Stay calm and no one will get hurt." What person—a woman who should have seen the signs and known better—would be snotty to a woman wearing a Bring Your Kid to Work Day t-shirt and buying tampons, chocolate and wine coolers? Now doesn't that just scream watch out! Woman on the edge? There wasn't enough alcohol in those (yes, those) wine coolers to wipe out a day taking care of 39 children who don't belong to me. Mine are bad enough (which is why I don't bring any of them to work). One child was obviously in need of serious attitude-adjusting drugs. I told his mom later that I had to have a talk with him and she said "Yeah, I forgot to give him his medicine today." What???!!! How could you forget to give your ADD kid his meds when you know you're taking him into your place of employment for the day? Heck, I would have given him an extra dose! Don't think we won't be talking about her for a long time. BYKTW Day is so not in my job description!

Happy Trails to You

My dork of an ex decided that he was going to hike the PCT after he retired from the Navy. After all the bragging online about his previous stint as a sniper in the Marines (while he was in college no less—funny how they couldn't find his USMC service record when he join the Navy) and world-wide hiking history, he finally started on the hike two days ago. On day one, he ran out of water, steps on a rattlesnake, gets stung by a bee (did I mention his allergy), got attacked by a hummingbird (a really, really big, man-eating bird), and injured his knee falling. On day two he quit. I am so laughing my ass off.

Phantom & the need for new glasses

I was so excited last Friday because I was going to see the Phantom. Well sort of. The first hint should have been that it was playing in Escondido, not San Diego. The second hint should have been that I got tickets the week of the performance. When I read the announcement in the newspaper I didn't notice that it was just Phantom not Phantom of the Opera. Hence, the need for new glasses.

When my sister and I arrived we discovered it wasn't Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom, it was by Yetsen & Kopit. You remember those two? According to Wikipedia it is " frequently described as the most successful musical never to have played on Broadway." Well I have to differ in that opinion. It was horrid. There wasn't one memorable song in the whole play (or at least until the intermission because we left after that). It was all filler music. There were quite a few scenes that were comical, was it supposed to be funny? One scene was too funny but it wasn't supposed to be. Christine was in the room with the phantom when Raoul runs to her door shouting, "Christina, let me in," as he bangs on the door. Unfortunately the door does open from his banging, so he had to quickly pull it shut while still shouting "Christina, let me in!" The whole audience roared with laughter.

At least I had a better time last week when I went to see Wicked up in LA with a few friends from work. Now that was a fantastic play & I would definately see it again. We went up and did the whole tourist thing, looked at the stars in the sidewalk, checked out the cement handprints and walked down Rodeo Drive. As many times as I went to LA (or should I say the Valley) I never go to see Hollywood because my ex, pfl (pig-faced larry, with no caps because he doesn't deserve to be a noun), didn't want to drive in from West Covina because: 1) the traffic was terrible 2) the streets are crowded 3) there's too many people (pick the excuse you wish, he used them all). So instead my whole LA experience was going to the mall in West Covina. Yeah.

I still have Webber's Phantom music in my head. I feel cheated.

The Captain & the Kid

There's a song by Jimmy Buffett called Captain & the Kid that always, always, makes me cry. He wrote it for his grandfather & it reminds me of my dad, Captain Fred Durnford. He died when I was 19, before I got to know him as a person. Dad was a captain in the merchant marines, plying the St. Lawrence River and later when I was a teenager (and living with him & my step-mom) he was a captain in the Canadian Coast Guard.

He was always a mystery to me. First, I never met him until I was seven because my parents were separated and I lived in a different country. Plus they didn't get along well—that's an understatement. Also, he was a man of few words so he never talked about himself or his past. Perhaps if I had been a little older, and not such a self-centred teenager, I would have gotten to know him. But it's too late.

I vaguely remember meeting him for the first time. I have snatches of a memory of a party in my step-aunt's basement and me sitting on his lap, but it's a very, very vague memory. The story goes that I met him and sat on his lap all night without moving, I was so enamoured with him. The reason that the story is amazing is that my father's face was badly scared & his right hand consisted of three large stumps. He had been badly burned in the war and he was a bit frightening in small children's eyes. But, supposedly I didn't flinch or even notice. Too bad I don't remember much.

Year's later when I was a teenager I never even thought that his face was "different" it was all I ever knew so when I saw pictures of him before the war he looked strange to me. He wasn't the dad that I knew. It also created problems with new friends that I'd bring over to the house because I'd forget to forewarn them about his face and hand.

It was at his funeral that I started to realize what an amazing person my father was. The whole crew from the two ships my dad worked on were at the funeral in their dress blues (which I think half of them had to borrow). We're talking about 150 guys. And the flowers, they were busting out of the church. There were flowers from ships that he hadn't worked on in 20 years. News had spread up and down the St. Lawrence River in a heartbeat and they all sent flowers or came to the funeral. I stood there and thought, "Wow, he was pretty respected."

I never thought that I looked like my father, or my mother if truth be told. I was on the ferry on the way to Newfoundland & I ran into my aunt and some old family friends that I had never met. We were all going over for my aunt & uncle's 50th anniversary. This man came in and my aunt said, "Guess who this is?" And without skipping a beat he said, "That's Fred's daughter." I was shocked, I do look like him! I was so proud at that moment.

So the reason that The Captain & the Kid makes me cry is because of a comment that my father said to my sister just before he died. Dad was finally going to retire and bought a little boat. He took my sister down to see it; the sister who gets sea sick in a bathtub. He started walking down the pier and was about half way down when he realized that she wasn't behind him because the rocking pier scared her. So he came back, tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, patted it, and said, "You know if Cynde was here she'd be on the boat already." Even though I never mentioned that I loved the sea as much as him, he figured it out.

He's the Captain, I'm the kid.

Miss USA

Yeah I had to watch it but not all the way through. It's sort of like that traffic accident. You know, when you swear you will not be like everyone else and slow down to watch, but as you get closer you just can't help it, and you look. So I looked. I watched the first few minutes to see who was representing my adopted state of California and my home state of Florida. Later I went back to see the evening gown section and oh, my God! Who picked their gowns? Almost every single one of them had on a hoochie-momma, trampy-looking dress! Miss California had on a dress with a neckline that went down to her navel showing off her little saggy boobies—and black is not her colour. Miss Nevada had some frilly number that looked like Mami Eisenhower's bed jacket—except Mami wouldn't of had the front cut up to there! Okay, mental image I didn't need. And what is with the elastic gathering up the crack of the butt? I can't remember who was wearing that but the front was just as bad. I called it the blue bondage number.

Now I'm not going to get into the whole feminist issue as to whether the pageant should be shown at all. But, my own personal opinion is, "Isn't that what feminism is all about, the ability to choose?" I personally wouldn't be caught dead in a pageant but I'm not going to say to another woman that you shouldn't or can't go into a pageant because then wouldn't we be going back to the time when men were telling us that we shouldn't and can't? It's a two way street, you can't have it both ways. Didn't I say that I was not going to get into the whole feminist issue? Ah, but isn't it a woman's prerogative to chance her mind :)

Books I'm reading: I'm in the middle of Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs. Man that is one fucked up family! I just finished another Terry Pratchett book. I'm working my way through the series. He is one seriously funny guy. And last but not least, I'm working my way through a biography of George III's daughters. I didn't know that one of them had a child out of wedlock. I thought only the Hanover boys were baddies.

Men in Trees

I really used to like that new show Men in Trees, but lately I've not been able to watch it. Not since the tabloids started talking about Ann Heche leaving her husband for co-star James Tupper. Suddenly their kissing scenes are not acting anymore, they're real, and it's uncomfortable, especially to someone who's been cheated on before. I'm a little hypersensitive over issues like that. But there's a 4-year old involved. Okay, so he's already scared for life with a name like Homer (boy isn't he going to have fun in second grade). But they were joking about it, he said that his wife had bought a $1,000 dress to entice him after he was talking about the kissing scenes with Ann and a month later they're together. She knew. And she was saying a month earlier that her husband was the best Mr. Mom that I know. What about his poor wife who worked hard while he was trying to make a break as a actor and this happens when he finally gets that break. I'd be tempted to break him! He's giving a lot up for someone who has mental problems (remember when she was wondering around town nuts), and can't figure out what sexuality she is (remember Ellen). It's not going to last and both of them will pay dearly for it ala Christy Brinkley. Everyone is saying "Poor Christy, he husband cheated on her." Ummm, duh, isn't that what she did to Billy Joel? Case closed.

Good Parent, Bad Spouse

I was watching the View and they were having an argument about spouses having an affair. It all started with the Rosie/Donald arguement where she said how come he gets to be the moral code for Miss USA when he cheated on his spouse and has been married 3 times. Then Barbara said something about a "little affair." The blonde (can't think of her name) got upset over the word "little," an affair is an affair. Obviously Barbara has never been cheated on because it's never "little." Anyway, the blonde said that if you are a bad spouse then you are also a bad parent. Now Rosie disagreed on that one, even though she said Donald Trump was not a good moral code. She was saying there was a difference between the two. You can be a bad spouse but a good parent. I disagree. If you are having an affair, even if it's a brief one, then you are not being a good parent. First of all, you are cheating on that kids mother or father. If the child finds out (and trust me they will find out one day) what does that tell them? That it's okay to treat their other parent that way? That it's okay to cheat? Isn't that was Joseph Kennedy taught his kids? We teach our children by example, so what type of example are you teaching them? Bottom line, they're watching you and emulating you.

Aunt Lottie

One of my most favourite people in the world passed away this week in Port aux Basque, Newfoundland–my Aunt Lottie. We were lucky enough to visit Uncle Eric & Aunt Lottie last June for their 60th anniversary. Even after 60 years of marriage you never saw two people that were more in love with each other than those two. Aunt Lottie was an important part of my life. When I was going through my divorce she—all 5ft nothing of her—told me that she wanted to go down to Virginia and "punch Larry in the nose!" She probably would have done it too. Our trip in June was the first time that my husband met that side of my family. He fell such in love with Aunt Lottie and she with him. It was so bad that when I called home, the first thing she would say is, "how's my Bruce?" He started calling himself Aunt Lottie's Bruce. She just thought that he was something else because he did the dishes and helped around the house. Men didn't do that in her day, not that they would have been allowed to around her. This is the tribute that I wrote for her funeral:

How do you describe Lottie Durnford? I think saying that she was a small ball of a woman in constant motion pretty well sums it up. I don’t think I ever saw Lottie, in her younger years before age caught up with her, ever walk at a sedate pace. She was always bustling in and out of rooms, mainly the kitchen—Lottie was always in the kitchen.

I can’t think of Lottie without thinking of food and tea. Whenever you went to their house food would just miraculously appear on the table the minute you sat down, and I mean lots of food! I was the only child of my father’s born off the Rock, so I hadn’t grow up with traditional Newfoundland food. Aunt Lottie changed all that. She introduced me to the wonders of pork buns! The minute she heard that I had never had one she was scandalized and started baking, and baking and baking. I had pork buns every blessed morning during my first visit to Newfoundland. Oh, and you also drank a lot of tea when you were around Lottie—even if you didn’t like tea. Food and tea; that was her way of showing love.

Lottie had a great big heart. She loved her family dearly, her son Merrill, her daughter-in-law Ida, and most especially her precious granddaughter Linda. Linda was the apple of her eye. But the greatest love of her life was for her husband Eric. She loved that man dearly and gladly cared of him for 60 years of a beautiful marriage. Those of us lucky to be present at their recent 60th anniversary saw that love shining through. For 60 years she loved the same man, passionately and dearly.

I am glad that I had Lottie Durnford in my life. I wish that everyone had a Lottie Durnford in their lives because if they did, the world would be a better place. They would have known unconditional love and unconditional dedication to family and God. For Lottie showed that every day to everyone and we’re all better for it.

Paradise

Today I went to the beach to take some photos. There was a tall ship in town and I wanted to get some photos of her while she was going out to sea. While we were sitting there on the breakers I was just amazed about how beautiful my adopted home is. Here it was the middle of January and we were sitting out on a breaker watching the sailboats go by. Can't do that up north this time of year. San Diego county has got to be one of the most beautiful areas in the states. It's much nicer than L.A., the people there are too plastic in my mind. San Diegians are warmer, friendlier and small-townish compared to our neighbours to the north. I think San Diego is the closest you can get to a Canadian city in the states. The people are polite and friendly, just like back home - without the cold weather.

Seems like it was just yesterday.

Last night we went out for dinner at Old Country Buffet for Bryant's 17th birthday. On the way home I was listening to the boys talk in the back seat and was thinking about how many times we had gone there in the past and the night ended with me fussing at the boys, mainly Blake, for making rude noises. It seems with boys that you can't go from point A to point B in the car without someone doing something that involved bodily functions. Blake was usually the culprit in our house. About half way home he'd start giggling in the back and the rest of the boys are gagging and rolling down the window. He try to be serious and say, "I couldn't hold it in, " but his sincerity was very lame since he could hardly say it without giggling. It dawned on me last night that it just seemed like yesterday and now he's out on his own in the Marines. They sure grow up fast.

Day Two with the Drill Instructor

Stepson #3 started Marine boot camp on Monday. It's handy having a spouse that went through it so we know what he's going through each day. I generally know what he's going through, boot camp is boot camp, but the day to day stuff is different between the services. Yesterday was "meet" the drill instructor day. I can only imagine what that is like. The asterisk were theirs not mine. Nice to see that Marines have a sense on humour. I had an upper endoscopy yesterday, fun time was had by all! It wasn't really that bad they gave me a sedative that made me happy. I wasn't so fond of the spray they put down my throat to numb it. It was supposed to taste like bananas. It taste like crap and it was foamy. I didn't fall asleep from the sedative until I came home and slept all day, all night and woke up at 9:30 on Saturday. My throat was sore but that's about it. I do have a hiatal hernia which explains all the heartburn.

The World of Comics

I have to admit that I'm a big fan of Luann and For Better or For Worse. And I know I'm not the only one...come on, you're out there. I can't be the only person that checked out Tiffany's My Space. I even checked some of the links. Okay, I thought about posting to it. Man, I can't believe how many people have blogged Tiffany to rat out Luann & Bernice. Quit cluing her in!

I find it fascinating that Luann has blurred the lines between fiction and reality (okay, let's not even go down the reality show road). How cool is it that I read the strip about Luann and Bernice blogging onto Tiffany's My Space on comics.com and with a little tap dancing with the fingers, bam, I'm reading the same blog on Tiffany's My Space. Now how cool is that? Okay, I need to get a life.

Luann is great but my favourite is FBOFW. I have been a fan of that comic 4Ever! Fans will know what that means. I know that they aren't real people but sometimes it just feels like they're part of my family. I'll admit that I cried when Farley died. I knew it was coming, Lynn Johnston said so in an interview, and you could see the build up. It was one of those situations where you didn't want to read it because you knew the ending but you had to anyway. (I get that way with any books on the Rominovs, I keep wanting to shout, "Don't go down in the basement!" But I digress). Even to this day when a reread the strip I tear up. And what is going to happen to Elizabeth and Constable Wright? I seriously think that he's going to become interested in that old friend of his and dump Elizabeth. He really doesn't want to move south. But that's okay because I think Elizabeth will be reunited with the one that she truly love, Anthony. Oh BTW, I was totally wierded out when the comic started winking at me! I'm not sure if I'm ready for animated comic strips online.

Bird Flies the Nest

Today was one of those painful parenting days—one of the boys permanently flew the nest. Today the Marines came at 5 a.m. and took him off to boot camp. You're proud but torn up at the same time because it's such a turning point in their and your lives. I think I've been crying off and on all day. All the other parents at work know exactly what I'm going through. The single ones have no clue. They don't get it, just a few days ago I was ranting and raving that I wished they'd all move out because they don't do squat around the house and expect me to pick up after them, afterall they're on summer vacation. And now I'm crying because I want my baby back. It just seems yesterday that he was ten and playing roller hockey, and then all of a sudden last month he graduated from high school and "poof" he's gone. The circle is now closed because both Bruce and I now know how our moms felt when we went off to boot camp.

Memories

I was on vacation recently up to Newfoundland for my aunt & uncle's 60th anniversary. The last time I was there was 10 years ago at their 50th. While I was there I found the Dick Nolan album I've been searching for in an antique store. It was the only one that was never put on a CD. It has a song on it called Fiddler's Green that my father used to sing (usually when he was in his cups). I've heard the song sung by others but it wasn't the same, it had to be Dick Nolan's version. I had the album but my ex kept it for some strange reason. So I haven't heard it for almost 10 years. Today I finally got a record player so I could hear it. The minute I heard it I started crying. I could picture my father singing away and me, being the snotty teenager that I was, rolling my eyes and saying "Daaaadddd." I called my sister and played the song over the phone. She was sniffling as well. We had a good laugh over that, both of us were crying by the third note! What a nice memory.

Books I've read: Just finished the Tanya Huff vampire PI series. Not bad, always liked her writing. Also finished the DaVinci code just before the movie came out so I could compare. Not bad, but the writing wasn't too difficult. After I finished the book, I realized that the whole story took place in what, three days and no one ate, slept or changed clothes??? I'm in the middle of the Kite Runner but not working too hard on that one (it's my lunch book) and the new Pern book written by her son.

Goodbye Georgie

It's funny how we get attached to objects. I just sold the car that I've been driving for the past 12 years. I balled my eyes out when I had to hand him over to the dealer! He was a 1994 Geo Metro 5-door that I called Georgie...get it, Georgie the Geo. I know, I'm one of those people that names their cars. I've only had 4 cars in over 20 years, I tend to keep them a long time. Georgie was a fantastic car and we had so much history together, hence the crying. I bought Georgie because I needed a car for my dog Phineas. He was too large for a small car but I didn't want to drive a van. Phineas died a few months after I moved out here during my divorce. I firmly believe that he died of a broken heart and my ex had a lot to do with it. I still mourn my poor Phineas. I had to fight tooth and nail to get Georgie shipped out here, the cheap bastard didn't want to spend the money, said I should have drove out here. Yeah, right, not in the state of mind I was in at the time. I remember how pissed I was when I found out his girlfriend was driving around in my car. I wanted to fumigate him when he arrived. I remember how wonderful it felt when the flatbed pulled up with my baby. I felt so emancipated from that louse. I also felt that I had won, the car was mine! And today I sold him. I hope he goes to a new home. But Max, the 2004 Miata turbo, I bought sure will console me.

When Life Gives You a Lesson

My oldest stepson is in college and living at home. Lately he had been bringing his four friends over the house to play computer games after school twice a week. At fist I didn't mind, but over time I was getting tired of the noise and aggravation of coming home tired from work to a house full of kids. Then life taught me a lesson.

Two weeks ago while coming over to our house they got into a horrific car accident. I'm not sure what caused the accident because it was a single-car incident but we do know that they veered to the right, went down an embankment and flipped over three times before stopping. There were five kids in the car, mine was in the back, in the middle, and not wearing a seatbelt. He said that he tried to put the belt on but couldn't fish it out of the seat so he gave up. Funny, how one little decision changes your life.

One was only banged up a bit, two were in the hospital for a few days with broken arms. The two that were injured the worst were the driver and my stepson. We weren't sure if the driver was going to have brain damage, the doctors had him in a drug induced coma for 72 hours, but he came out okay and will be out of the hospital next week. My stepson received a broken leg, arm, jaw (in 2 places), cheekbone, and a collapsed lung, bruised spleen and a concussion. After hearing the sequence of events from his friends (he can't remember) I am amazed that he survived. They said he was half-way out the sunroof when the car finally stopped rolling. I guess when it finally came to a stop with a thump, he was hurled through the sunroof. I shudder to think what the results would have been if he was hurled through the sunroof before the car came to a stop. I don't think I've been more scared in my life when we were waiting in the ER while they were patching him up, or when he was going through his two surgeries. It's a parent's worst nightmare.

And here I was complaining about the noise. I can't wait until they are all better and over at our house again making as much noise as they can.

Books I'm Reading:
Working my way through Tanya Huff's Victory Nelson vampire series.

Th Ass is Still Alive

Remember the guy that I was feeling sorry for because, even though he was an ass, he didn't deserve to have lung cancer. I went on and on about how he wasted his life because he had money but didn't enjoy it or life. Well the bastard lied!!! Can you believe it??? He called his sister over in Europe and gave her this sob story and then....opps, I jumped the gun. The doctor said it might be cancer but he'd have to take some test. And guess what, it's not! He had his sister and his soon-to-be ex-wife (my relative) all upset and feeling sorry for him for nothing. Mind you he does still have diabetes and now some funny condition that causes tumors in his lungs. You get it from digging up dirt in Southern California, how bizarre is that. And to top it all off he lied to my relative about breaking up with the other woman and he hasn't. What a piece of work he is.

Life...Got to Love It

It has been way too long since I wrote a blog. Not that I haven't been thinking about writing one, it's just the doing that sucks. I had this wonderful one hashing around my brain for weeks after the new year, had it practically finished—in my head that is. I wish I could figure out a way to telepathically submit blogs. It was very profound, about all the interesting people that passed away last year. It seemed that they passed away in threes, such as the voice of Piglet, Tigger and Tony the Tiger. There were more notable people vs. popular people that passed away, or at least it seemed to me. But now I've completely forgotten the witty lines andreparteee that I had thought of and now it's lost forever. All I have left in my brain is dribble.

I made the mistake not too long ago of deciding that I was in a state of bliss. Really, everything in my life was going well. I though that I have "arrived" to that Oprah moment when you realize that this is a pretty good life. I live in a place that I love, a house that I love, was finally "really" losing weight, and to top it off I'm married to the most wonderful husband in the world. Pure bliss right? Notice I didn't mention the kids?

Never think that you're in a bliss state when you have teenagers and especially don't make the mistake of saying it out loud. Right after I uttered those fateful words all hell broke loose with the 16 year old and we went through a miserable period..a long torturess period full of abject misery. But we're coming out of it, a little frayed, but hanging in there nonetheless. I think he's through this stupidity period and finally realizing that he has to pay the consequence of his actions. New school, new rules, less freedom, etc.

Now I have to deal with the 18 year old.Onlyy 3 months to go and he's under the Marine's wings :) What is it with teenagers that they think 18 is such a magical number? It was for me because I had graduated and moved out. It's not if you're still in high school and living with your mummy and daddy. He made the mistake of telling me that he was going to a late movie on a school night instead of asking...not a good move on his part. But it's hard to be hanging out with your older brother's friends and having to come home early because of a curfew. So now his life is miserable because he's 18 and can't do what he wants, when he wants, afterall he's now an adult. It alway amazes me that they do the most un-adult things, like sulk, pout and lie, to prove that they are an adult.

Is he going to get a big surprise in July when he reports to boot camp. My husband and I (who both went through it) are silently chuckling. He has no idea what hell he's going to be going through. We're going to look like saints compared to his DIs.

But I think I'm getting back to that bliss state, only this time I'm not saying it out loud!

Books I'm Reading:
Lammas Night by Katherine Kurtz - Witches try to thwart Hitler with the help of HRH the Duke of Clarence, brother of King George VI. Spell binding to say the least! I don't think I've ever dislike a book by Kurtz.

Victoria's Daughters by Jerrold M. Packard - bio of Queen Victoria's daughters. Likes to gloss over history a little too much. But I figured I read about Victoria's grandduaghters (4 of whom became Queens) I should backtrack and read about the mothers. Interesting theory of how Victoria became a carrier of hemophilia. Seems there is no history of it in her ancestors hinting that the Duke of Kent was not her real father.

What goes around...

Someone I know just found out that he has lung cancer. It's rather sad and I have to feel sorry for him even though he's such an ass. This man wrecked a lot of havoc on someone in my family. But I still feel sorry for him because his is such a life wasted.

By all views he would be considered a successful man. He has money, he had reached the pinnacle of his career and then threw it all away on a risky deal making even more money. He had the Midas touch. In reality, he wasn't very successful. He has wonderful adult sons that are back in his life, but because he abandoned them he can't look at them with pride and say "I had something to do with them becoming good men." He had a wife that he didn't appreciate until it was too late. He had money that he couldn't enjoy because he was scared it would all go away. He lived in fear, in fear of life. He was saying that he was going to travel with the few years that he had left. He always wanted to go to South Africa and to Scotland to play golf at St. Andrews. The sad part is there was nothing stopping him from doing those things before except himself. He had the money, he had the time, he had everything! I always say that they never speak of your career at your funeral, only of your character.

It's sad that it took looking at death for him to understand what life is all about.

New Orleans

It pains me to watch the devastation down south, I just can't watch it. I've been through quite a few hurricanes, having lived in Florida, but this was the worst I've ever seen. I was in New Orleans for 2 weeks for school a few years back. New Orleans is the headquarters for the US Navy Reserve and a lot of our school are there. I look at the streets that I walked, now under tons of water and it's just heart wrenching. That is one of the poorest regions of the US and many of those people have no insurance. How are they going to survive? I wish that I could do more than just send money, I feel very helpless.

BTW

I noticed that both USA Today and another publication fixed their Brockville faux paux the day after I sent an e-mail. Ah...the power.

On another note, I finally got a comment on my blog and it was only a bloody excuse to put in a hyperlink to someone advertising low mortgage rates! So much for the power. The only comments I get is a spam.

BTW, who would get a mortgage from a company that sends spam?

A Very Funny Book

I just finished reading an extremely funny book by Bill Bryson called Notes From A Small Island. It's about his one last trip around Great Britain before he moves back to the States. He's got to be one of the wittiest writers I have ever read. I can't wait to read the one sitting at my desk at work about his travels back the the USA after a 20 year absence. Thank goodness it's at work or else I'd be up till 1 a.m. again trying to read just one last chapter before my eyes cave in. There were parts were I laughed out loud, and I mean really loud, while on public transportation at 7 in the morning! (And I normally do not read on my way into the office, it cuts into my nap time.) But I could not put this book down. I sure wish that I could write like that.

Peter Jennings

There are only two people that I ever wanted to meet, Peter Jennings & Alex Trebek. I thought that those two were the most intelligent and interesting men I had ever seen on TV. But yesterday Peter Jennings lost his short battle with lung cancer. We lost a great Canadian yesterday. I take that back, we lost a great man of the world yesterday. He always said that about himself, he felt like a citizen of the world.

He began his career at CFJR Radio in my hometown Brockville, Ontario. Not Brockton, USA Today. Jeez, the only time my small town will ever be in a national paper and they spell it wrong! But I just checked and they fixed it, thanks to my e-mail. But I digress.

I feel like a old neighbour has died. He was always there, every night, giving me the news in his urbane, smooth way. I liked hearing his Canadian accent as well. I was less homesick.

Everyone says that he was a very intelligent man and had a wicked sense of humour. He never finished high school, the world was his school. I heard him described as a sponge, he absorbed everything around him. That's why I wanted to meet him.

I saw him on TV once giving a speech in front of his peers in Washington. He was witty and didn't hold back any punches. He told a funny story about the difference between Canadians and Americans once. He said that Canadians had a great respect for institutions. And he told a wonderful story to prove his point. And I'm not doing justice to his rendition, but here's what he said: He and his son were coming out of the Skydome, the Blue Jays had just won the World Series. All these people, many who had been drinking, came streaming out onto the street. Suddenly a lone cop held up his hand and blew his whistle to stop the crowd and hundreds of people stood there until the cop said they could go. I love that story!

It's sad that he had to die a needless death. He had quit smoking for 20 years and then started up after 9/11. I guess the terrorists got another one.

Memories

It's been over 20 years since my mother passed away from cancer. She died when I was only 25. I had been in the military and married for just under 2 years. It was a time that I was getting to know my mother as a woman instead of a mom. I feel sad that I missed out on talking to my mom as an equal about all those "womanly" subjects like marriage and kids. Today I listened to a song that she used to play all the time the last year of her life. It was Memory, from Cats, sung by Barbra Streisand. After all these years, I cried my eyes out while I listened to it. It almost seems like yesterday that she died.

Tired

I'm going to be 50 in 3 years and I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. Just the usual question: what have I done with my life? It's so silly really, I've done a lot and there's a lot more to come. But we all go through this silly little phase where we wonder if we've made an impact on the world. Christ, who has time? Quite frankly lately I've just been too tired to make an impact on the world! The last teenager of 4 is going to be the death of me yet. It's the youngest that's always the hardest (speaking from experience since I'm the youngest). But back to me. Why do we go through this feeling that death is stalking me right when life should be settling into a nice routine. We're at the age where we have money to enjoy, the kids are going out on their own, and you have more time for each other. Instead it seems that the years are getting shorter and shorter as we careen towards death. I swear that life did not go this fast when I was young. Last year I didn't get to the beach once. When I first moved out here I was at the beach every weekend. But that was before I had a family and a house to keep up. I was single and free. And what was I doing? Checking out potential husbands at the beach! Aren't we a funny lot, when we are in a family we dream of being single, but when we are single we're trolling for a partner. It's like the girls with straight hair always wishing for curly hair and the curly hair girls wishing for straight hair. We're quite the lot, never satisfied with what we have. I think I'm just a little bored. For the last 5 years I've been going to school, working full-time and in the reserves. Now I've graduated and I retired from the reserves. I'm not used to having free time and only one job. I have to find a hobby. Now that's a hoot, the last thing I need is one more hobby. So what to do about my mid-life crisis? Buy a sports car - no, that's a guy thing. Have an affair - now that's a hoot. Get my master's degree - hmmm...are you nuts! Start my own business. Now that's an idea.

Strange happenings

Eight years ago I was in a terrible divorce. My husband dumped me for a woman that he had known for only a week. He had met her in Daytona during Bike Week. They were married the day after our divorce was finalized. I meanwhile met a wonderful man and started a new life with him and his boys and we're happy to this day. A funny thing happened to everyone that was associated with him and his wife. Less than a year after they were married, he, his wife and a friend of hers was hit by a drunk driver. His wife suffered brain damage and amnesia. She basically didn't know who he was. The friend was okay but she suffered a lot of guilt for changing seats with his wife. His wife eventually left him for the man that she remembered, Dennis. She sued him for divorce and her family sued him for the insurance money, saying that he and the friend were in a conspiracy to keep the insurance money. The insurance money was spent on her recovery and nursing home costs, but they didn't believe him. She had another friend who kept everyone up-to-date on her recovery through her website. In a small world senerio, I accidentally started corresponding with her through a needlework newsgroup before I discovered that she was best friends with my ex's wife. Well a number of years have passed and the strangest thing has happened to all these people. My ex suffers from Epstein Barr syndrome, his wife (now ex wife) is still in a nursing home in the UK. The passenger in the car has passed away from some strange illness, the best friend has also passed away and I just found out that Dennis has incurable cancer and will not survive. These are all people in their late to middle 40s. I find that very strange...strange indeed.

Well someone there is smart

It seems after my rant, the boobs in Washington got smart and let the military take care of their own. The army sure was confused by Washington. Sometimes I wonder about our elected officials. They jump to conclusions without a fact-finding mission. Thank goodness they got smart for once. I just wondered how they could figure out where exactly the "war zone" was over there. Well that's my rant for the day.

Women Warriors

I usually don't watch the show, but last night I watched the Extreme Makeover Home Edition where they built a house for the family of PFC Lori Piestewa. It was a real tear jerker. Sheahomes had a commercial that said, "they are moms, they are daughters, they are sisters, they are friends, they are our inspiration and they are our heroes" It showed pairs of women and at the end they showed PFC Piestewa's photo. As a military woman I am proud of the women that are out there fighting alongside their shipmates and soldiers. And I'm angry that the House Armed Services Committee and the President want women to take a step backwards. They want to close over 1,000 billets that are presently open to women because they are in "combat" zones and they want them behind the lines again. That's so stupid because there is no more "behind the lines" these days. PFC Piestewa was in a supply company and they ended up being shot at. At least let them fight back. I'm my day I was only allowed on supply or auxiliary ships. I thought that was pretty stupid too because all the military history I learned, that's the first ships the enemy hit. The Merchant's Marine was hit hard during WWII (they didn't get any recognition either). The enemy are hitting convoys and supply lines. There is no "front line" anymore in this war or any since WWII. I think the best comment I heard was "You can't tell me I'm not being shot at. You can't tell me I can't handle combat," said Provancha, who has nearly been hit by road bombs, rockets and the chow hall suicide bombing that killed 22 in December. "That was pretty frickin' direct fire if you ask me," she said, holding up a piece of shrapnel. Damn right!

My dog Sophie

My dog amazes me. I call her "Sophie the one-eyed wonder dog". We got her free from the pound because she was what they call a humane adoption. She was squished in the womb and has an underdeveloped head. That's why she was born blind in one eye. The man who dropped her off at the pound when she was 6 months said she was too stupid to potty train. Okay she's a little slow sometimes but we had her trained in a few week. Mind you we need new carpet now, but with 4 teenage boys the beige carpet didn't have an chance anyway! Sophie is part whippet and, we think, part bull terrier. She has a very short lower jaw so we had to get some teeth filed down so she could close her mouth. Where she's not slow is in her running. I have never seen a one-eyed dog that can cut around the table and chairs with such precision. She runs so fast that she's run up the walls. We like taking her to the dog park to meet other dogs and she runs them ragged once she gets over her shyness. It kind of scares her when they come up on her blind side. But when she gets going, they can't keep up. She different from the other greyhounds and whippets that come to the park in that she cuts in and out instead of running a straight line. She's an amazing dog and we love her to death. My husband takes her to Weinersnitzel all the time for hotdogs! Like I said, she's a spoiled dog.

Blah Day

Ever had those days when everything seems blah. Your job is blah, your family is blah, everything is blah. I think I need a new job, a new life, a new something. Mind you I wouldn't want another husband or family, they're exactly what I want. But I sure would like to win a million dollars or something and take them all the Disney World. It's rather silly, I have a job that I like and a life that I like. I live in the perfect city, everyone wants to live here, so I shouldn't have the blahs. But I guess it hits everyone. Speaking of my city, everytime I see the coventioners walking down the street with wonderment on their face I kind of smirk because I live here and you don't. You get to go back to cold snowy Wisconsin while I get to wear short sleeve shirts in January. Life is good after all.

A Country Mourns

A few days ago this man shot and killed four Mounties in Alberta. I was looking at the pictures in the CBS website www.cbc.ca and found them so sad. There were rows and rows of Mounties in their serge uniforms crying. One of them had a twin brother in the Mounties and there was a photo of him saluting his brother's casket as he cried. I have a cousin who was a Mountie, he's retired now. It's a sad time for the country.

It's hard to explain how we feel about the Mounties, they aren't just our national police force, they are more a symbol of our country. I've always had a hard time explaining to my American friends what the Mounties mean to the average Canadian. They are a part of us, of our identity, of our soul. So we all mourn when one dies. I think this is the first time that so many have died at once. They are so respected and honoured in Canada. I remember a story about them that I thought was funny. Back in the 80s the Mounties were caught illegally wiretapping the Mafia. So the law was changed to make it legal. After all, if the Mounties felt they needed to go after the Mafia, then why hinder them?

When I was working for a Florida insurance claims adjuster's office in my early 20s in we used to investigate and reimburse people for stolen items. In the 2 years I worked there, the only time the police found the items was when tourists from Florida were vacationing in Canada and their camera was stolen from their car. We actually got a letter from the Mounties saying they have the camera! I and the other Canadian in the office did a little gloating that day!

We love our Mounties and I pray for the families of these fallen heroes.

Wind Beneath my Wings

It's strange to hear a song that used to remind you of "him" -- you know -- the love of your life who is no more. The song was Wind Beneath my Wings by Gary Morris. The country version before Bette Midler made it a pop hit. I actually liked her version as well, but it was the country version that reminds me of my ex-husband.

Perhaps that should have been a clue. I really didn't like country music and didn't listen to it until I met him and haven't listened to it since the D-I-V-O-R-C-E. Then it seemed that's all I listened to when we were going out. It was the beginning of the slide where I lost my personality. Another obvious clue was that "our" song was You Were Always on My Mind by Willy Nelson, a song about a man who cheated on his wife. How appropriate.

I was just reading a book by the Dali Lama where he's talking about romance and sustained love. He said that passionate, romantic marriages usually don't last, that sustained friendship is the type of relationship that will take you through the years. Eventually the quasar burns out and if there isn't friendship for a base then the marriage is doomed. Funny how a celebrate man has all the answers about love & marriage. Got to love the irony in that.

It was Mark Twain who said that, "You don't know true love until you've been together for 25 years." After the mistake of my first marriage I think I'm beginning to believe that.

My marriage was perfect with a capital P. It was romantic and passionate (people used to think we were newly married the way we carried on). But it was a facade. He was fake and eventually it fell apart. I didn't know about his secret life, just want I wanted to see.

I also didn't realize that my personally was slowly eroding away. I had been a pretty spontaneous, fun loving person when I met him. He on the other hand, didn't like to go to crowded places or couldn't make up his mind on where he wanted to go. Therefore we spent many weekends hanging around the house or going to the mall. We went to the mall (and it was a small dinky mall) about twice a week and wonder around. How pathetic.

We had no children so there was no excuse. He had to work on the house, but he never did. He was a bit of a procrastinator. So I got bored and accepted it.

But it's funny to hear a song that reminds you of that time but instead of being reminded of fun, romantic times, instead you are blank. I can't remember what I saw in him, what sparked that passion that lasted 14 years? And how did it die so fast...well the girlfriend may have had something to do with that! It's sad to think that I had been fooling myself for so long.

Because of the military we spent the first 4 years of our marriage commuting to see each other. The first 2 years I only saw him one weekend a quarter and then only on the weekends the next 2 years. We joked that when we finally got together wouldn't it be funny if we found out we didn't like each other...out of the mouths of babes.

It's so different now, I went into my 2nd marriage with my eyes open and I found a much better partner and lover. We had our annual banquet for work last Saturday. Yesterday someone mentioned to me that they couldn't help but notice how my husband and I were looking at each other throughout the night. We were always looking at each other with love and respect. He was so handsome in his tux and I didn't look too shabby either. She said that we were so obviously in love, even after 6 years of marriage (7 next month). What she didn't see was us fussing at each other in the car because we were lost!

Marriage, got to love it.

Nothing to say...

I have absolutely nothing to say and yet for some reason I want to hit the keys. How strange is that? I guess I'll just ramble. It was amazing to see the Iraqis vote on Sunday. So many of them risked their lives to go to the polling station and they looked so proud when they raised their ink stained finger up in the air to show their pride. I hope the best for them, so many people from our area have lost their lives for them to have the chance for independence and freedom. I'm not a big Bush supporter but after spending 20 years in the military I appreciate what sacrifices the military makes for people to have their freedom. I know that people have the freedom to protest but sometimes I wonder if any of these protesters know how much we sacrifice for them to protest?

Speaking of Bush, I have a few beefs that I want to get off my chest. It's terror not terrer. And, while I'm on my soapbox, the United States is not the only democratic country in the world. I was at a meeting once and the speaker was saying in what other country do you have the freedom and rights to protect your rights. I felt like standing up and saying...duh, Canada. Why do people think that the US is the only country in the world that people have rights and freedom? Canadians have always have rights, that's why when the Americans came knocking in 1776 and 1812 and we said no, thanks.

Off my soapbox now.

People amaze me

Mean people always amaze me. You would think after 40 some-odd years (and counting) that I would become jaded. But no, I'm always amazed when someone, who is not normally an evil person, does something bad on purpose. Something that could affect the health of the woman he supposedly loved. Just because he's a selfish bastard.

I mean I've done some bad things by accident, like cut someone off on the road. And I've even done something a little bad to someone who deserved it (like my ex-husband), but I don't think I've done something bad to someone who was innocent and on purpose. I know that there are phycho people out there, like mass murders, that do bad things for no reason, but I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about a normal human being who, because of his self-centred, selfish personality, endangered the health of the woman he had supposedly loved. To me that in an evil person, because he did it on purpose.

I hope his little weenie falls off.

A Note to Myself...

A Note to Myself...get some milk. One thing I've noticed about blogging, I'm not good at it. One has to sit down at the computer and actually write something..anything. It turns out that I'm too busy to do that, or too lazy. It seemed more interesting to watch the Amazing Race last night (yeah, Jonathan is off!) than to compose my thoughts. Speaking of AR, it's the only reality show I watch. I tend to think that 99% of the reality shows out there are (a) not and (b) boring. But since this one is a race it has its moments. And I have to say that Jonathan and his wife were aggravating. First I wanted to drive up to LA and take him down after he hit his wife. They had the gall to go on TV the next day and say it was the "editing" sure, right. But then her crying and screaming was getting on my nerves. All in all, they deserve each other. One co-worker said he didn't want Jonathan to get eliminated, he wanted him to get hit by a bus! Right on. Talk about some ugly American moments. These people need to get out and see the world. And that one woman who was complaining about the poor people in Africa "breeding" was so... can't even put her ignorance into words.